What Goes Around
by SophieB
Summary: **CH.3 UP**Bad boys never get dessert. And bad boys never learn. Draco has been a very VERY bad boy. Harry,Ron,Lucius,Arthur,Molly and the rest of the gang also present and accounted for. Fun at The Burrow, A melee at The Manor. A Weasel and Ferret story.
1. Chapter 1

**disclaimer:** All characters and places in this story are the creation and property of J.K. Rowling and are being used here without permission. No money is being made from the writing and publishing of this fiction.

**A/N:** ron / draco. yep. weird ron / draco, but r/d all the same. *sigh* me and my plot devices...

  


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**What Goes Around**

  


by adenosine, sophia3b@yahoo.com

  


**Chapter 1:** Comes Around

Draco stood next to his father, pompous and arrogant as ever with an extra little something that might have been smugness glowing on his face as Lucius laid a paternal hand on his shoulder.

Ron glared at him.

"Where's your proof. It's your boy's word against my son's." Lucius sneered at the auburn haired ensemble gathered before him.

"Ginny was there! She saw it all dad," said Ron tugging at his father's sleeve.

"That's right, my daughter witnessed it," said Arthur firmly. "We have one witness."

"That's not nearly enough Weasley. I'm not sure what _your_ perception of your reputation is, but I assure you, your daughter's word would hardly be received as a reliable source."

Arthur clenched his fist along with every other male member of the family that joined them. With the Twins -- and even Percy -- that was ten fists clenched in anger held at their sides by that infamously weak restraint. Lucius was not impressed. He smirked.

"There have been a few stories floating around for the past few years about your daughter. Has she a new diary? Perhaps she'd like her old one back since she seemed to like it so much."

Arthur's throat quivered with a deep growl as Ginny gasped and turned her face away from the confrontation. Molly put a comforting arm around her and glared at the elder Malfoy.

"Really, who do you think they will believe?" continued Lucius despite the imminent danger that was materializing in his present company. "The son of the most respected pureblood family in Europe, or a girl out of sorts and a boy with a bad temper and a distinct proclivity for misdeeds. Who could forget the infamous flying Anglia incident?" he said lightly, smugness creeping all over his face like a rash that Arthur sorely wanted to scratch off of his pointy git visage.

"Everyone but you Malfoy," said the head of the Weasley household, glaring at the blond man and straining against the arm on his shoulder -- Molly's discretionary move from her place beside her husband -- the only thing that had kept him from leaping at the other man in a flurry of fists. "They can perform Priori Incantatem on the wand. It's irrefutable proof," he pointed out.

Lucius frowned deeply. He glanced for a moment at his son and raised his face to meet Arthur's angry brown eyes. "You would do well not to try to press charges Weasley. I'm telling you for your own benefit. You can't afford to fight the machine you'll set in motion if you choose to test my patience on this issue."

Arthur looked around at his children standing about him.

The Weasleys were out for a little shopping in Diagon Alley when the trouble started. Ron had gone off on his own to find Harry Potter -- his perennial best friend -- and had been gone for nearly two and a half hours when the family started to worry. A Ron-hunt ensued, their search ending with something completely unexpected. And immediately they had tracked down the Malfoys at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor. The two families had quiet words and determined -- before they could come to fisticuffs -- to retire to a parlor at The Leaky Cauldron to talk it through, away from prying eyes...the civilized thing to do. And here they were now and the look on Arthur's face said very clearly that delivering a physical beating might be the only thing to resolve the issue for him and assuage his rage.

"Molly, take the children to finish the shopping."

Molly looked at him with worry shining brightly in her blue eyes. She shook her head and squeezed his arm gently. "Arthur...I don't think that would be a good idea."

Lucius snorted. "Safety in numbers eh, Weasley? Of course the Weasleys have never had any problem with that strategy considering all you _have_ is your numbers."

Arthur ignored the comment and nodded to Percy, "Take this lot out and get them some ice cream will you Perc?"

Percy nodded and grabbed the Twins' sleeves and headed for the door amongst struggling and a number of 'Geroff's'. After a final interminable, 'after you, no after you,' debacle that made Percy bite his lip to keep from shouting at them to stop fooling around, he turned from the threshold and called back primly, "Come along Ginny, Ron."

Ginny rolled her eyes and turned to follow him out the door.

"No, not you Ron, you need to stay," Arthur said softly to his son, as he continued to glare at Lucius. Ron stayed put, standing stoically next to his father. They made two pillars of fire stretching towards the ceiling, seeming almost like giants next to the Malfoys with their pointy elfish faces and average height. And Molly standing next to them like a loyal disciple, her lips pursed and her attention focused on her men. Lucius was still not impressed.

"Well Weasley? What are you going to do?" he said flippantly.

"We'll press charges. What happened was wrong. Not that that word has any meaning for you Malfoy. I'm sure words like decency, honour, and morality hold no meaning for you as well. I wonder, is 'irrefutable evidence' in that truncated dictionary you've been using for the past four decades? Because that's what we have. You can't buy your way out of this Malfoy."

The elder Malfoy paled slightly and Draco tensed beside him. Lucius scowled. "How much?" he hissed narrowing his eyes at the redheaded man.

Arthur's brow knit, creasing along the world-weary lines crossing his forehead. He shook his head in perplexity. "What?"

Lucius' face twisted into a sneer as he narrowed his eyes a bit more. "How much do you want? 1,000? 5,000?" he ground out, his face melting into a look of utter disgust at being forced to make such an offer.

Molly gasped beside her husband, as Arthur's frown grew only deeper. "You're trying to buy us off? Weren't you listening to a word I said?!" he asked in disbelief.

"Fine. 10,000."

"No! This is not right! It's not about money!" Arthur shouted. Molly nodded and grasped his arm tightly in support.

"Then what the hell do you want Weasley? A new house? A better job? What?! How about a bit of liposuction for your wife?"

"Now see here--!" Arthur moved forward only to find his path blocked by aforementioned wife.

"Arthur, no!" she cried, effectively holding him back with the whole of her body weight (which, as Mr. Malfoy had so astutely observed, was quite a lot.). Ron was bright red next to his father. He would have been happy to see his father beat a Malfoy into a fine pureblooded pulp and was somewhat peeved that his mother had interfered, but he knew better than to try to hit Lucius himself. He opted for shifting his gaze to Draco who had lost some of his colour when Arthur had moved to retaliate, and was now looking somewhat perturbed and disturbed by it all. They both glared at each other as their fathers had, and as they always did.

"You don't seem to care much about the seriousness of your situation Malfoy. Your son could go to Azkaban and you're making flippant comments. I knew you were a prick but I didn't know you were a heartless prick." Molly bit her lip to restrain herself from chastising Arthur's language. She watched Lucius, wary of any reaction, but it seemed slow in coming.

Draco, on the other hand, had paled considerably more at the mention of Azkaban and was now looking quite worried. Ron noticed and smirked. Draco's mood worsened, and he tugged at his father's arm with a look of panicked consternation on his face. Lucius gave him a quelling look and put a hand on his shoulder once again. "My son is _not_ going to Azkaban," he said with finality. Draco's face softened slighly with relief at his father's words.

Arthur frowned. "He provoked my son in an alley and then he cast the _Cruciatus_ on him! It's an _Unforgivable_...an Unforgivable he shouldn't even know. What do you think that implies Malfoy? And Ron...he could have been seriously hurt. Thank god we got there in time to remove it before anything permanent set in. Another few seconds and he would have been in the hospital! He could have died! Your son would have gotten the Kiss! You fucking idiot...take some responsibility and raise your goddamned kid right! This amounts to child abuse...teaching him an Unforgivable!!! _You_ should be in Azkaban for this! You should get the fucking Kiss!!!" Arthur's shouts rang throughout the low ceilinged parlor room, bouncing off the closed in walls, making the air reverberate with his quaking voice. Molly had long since, covered her mouth with her hands in shock and the two boys stared at the man with various degrees of surprise and on Draco's part, horror mingling in between.

Lucius' calm composure shattered in an instant. "How dare you! How dare you judge _my_ parenting and _my_ family!!! You, a muggle-loving fool who can't even afford to buy clothes that fit for his children, who can't even manage to handle a middle position job in a inconsequential department without bumbling up, you have no right!!! You're filth compared to me...don't concieve to tell me what to do!" Lucius' face had gone red in his tirade, a colour that didn't suit him at all and made him look like a lobster in a blond wig. He heaved angry breaths, his teeth clenched and his lip curling up in a snarl. "Just. Take. The money, Weasley. Name your price," he concluded calmly through his teeth.

Arthur looked to Draco who was looking cowed and slightly vulnerable, having had taken a step back from his father during his outburst.

"I don't feel right about sending children to Azkaban," he said at last. "Children shouldn't even be in contention. You brought this about Malfoy...you used your son for your own purposes -- teaching him these things -- and now it's come around to bite you in the arse. If your son goes to Azkaban, I'll not be the one putting him there...it will be you." Lucius trembled with anger, his nostrils flaring, but he kept his composure this time, obviously disappointed at himself for allowing himself the previous outburst...letting Weasley affect him. He would not do that again. He only allowed himself a low growl. 

"But..." Arthur continued. "Like I said, I don't feel right about this...this whole situation." He paused and bit his lip thoughtfully, looking to Molly who patted his hand and smiled an encouraging smile. He nodded resolutely. "Malfoy, we'll make a deal." Lucius nodded slightly and Arthur continued. "We won't report this..."

Draco visibly slumped and relaxed slightly, letting out a breath he had obviously been holding for quite a bit. Ron's eyes went wide and he gasped, "But Dad!"

Arthur held up a halting hand. "Just wait a minute Ronny, we're going to do the right thing here. Right?" he asked eyeing his son with a slight smile. Ron turned to look at Draco and found the blond giving him a very dirty look. He scowled back, but nevertheless, his shoulders sagged in defeat. He nodded. Arthur mirrored the movement and turned back to Lucius. He thought a moment before an idea flashed through his mind. Lucius didn't like the look in his eyes. "We won't press charges, only if...if you send Draco to stay with us the rest of the summer." 

"Arthur!"

"Dad!"

"What?!"

A chorus of shocked voices sounded throughout the room. The only one who had remained silent was Draco, though it might have been bacause he was too close to fainting to form any coherent syllables.

Lucius shook his head as if he'd just suffered a concussion and looked to Arthur again trying to determine if this was some kind of weird Weasley humor or if the man had merely lost his mind. "Are you serious?" he asked in a strained voice, choking back his surprise.

"Dad, you can't! He can't! Why..." Ron trailed off seeing the look on his father's face. There was a certain amount of absoluteness there. Though Arthur was a cheerful mischievous man, friendly to the extreme and a wonderful father, he still had a temper the size of the whole Weasley clan (second cousins and in-laws included). Ron knew when it was time to shut up.

Molly looked to her husband with questions in her eyes, but she didn't contradict him. Arthur sighed. "Look Malfoy. We don't want your money or any favours. What we would like is for your son to make up what he did. We've been lacking hands around the house lately and we could use the extra help. Your son will come stay with us and help with chores and other errands and he will go to Kings Cross with us at the end of summer. I think it will be enough atonement and you will be spared a media circus."

Lucius had the wild look of a coyote caught in an iron-jaw trap without any means of escape. Except to do the unthinkable and chew off his own foot. He looked to Draco.

"You'll keep it quite. The press..."

"The press doesn't have to know."

Lucius rubbed his chin thoughtfully, looking slightly calmer. Draco watched him in horror. "Father...you can't be serious! They want to make me their _servant_. I won't do it! Faaatherrr..." Lucius looked sharply at his son shutting him up for the moment.

"Or we could just let the authorities deal with the whole mess," suggested Arthur.

"Or I could just cast a memory charm on all of you," countered Lucius with a smirk.

Ron watched with wonder as his father smirked back. "Wouldn't work. Percy, the Twins, Ginny...there's too many people to know. But you're already perfectly aware of that."

There was a great pause broken only by a slight distressed murmur from Draco's direction. Lucius looked up, his chin high and his proud composure regained. "Fine. No charges, no press, you get Draco for the last weeks of summer. If any of this gets out I will collect your children one by one and skin them alive. And make myself designer robes out of their hides. Understand Weasley?" His eyes flashed angrily.

Arthur glared, ignoring the morbid comment (though he had no reason to suspect that Lucius didn't mean it), and nodded. "Fine."

"No! It's not fine! I'm not going with them. Father, _do_ something!" cried Draco pathetically. Arthur felt a twinge of pity for the boy.

Lucius turned and glared coldly at his son, a gaze that caused even Ron to shiver just for being in proximity to it. "You. You will use your time off to think about what you've done and the trouble and embarrassment you've caused me. And you will think of a way to make it up to me. I was never half as much trouble...I don't know what went wrong with you. No son of mine will drag his family name through the mud. Think about what you've done. Look at what you've been reduced to!"

Draco opened his mouth to say something but Lucius' glare cut him off. "I have no desire to listen to your excuses right now. Your essentials will be sent along when I get home. I am very disappointed in you. You have failed me and your name. Your mother would cry if she were here. What kind of son makes his mother cry? Think about that, Draco." He looked to the Weasleys. "I assume you _do_ have a way to contact me if need be?"

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Yes, we do have an owl," he said with a sigh.

Lucius nodded, pushed past the three Weasleys, and walked out the door. Three coppery heads turned from the door to Draco. The pale boy stood with his mouth hanging slightly open as if it were gearing to say something, but anyone could tell with one look at his blank expression that the words would never come.

Arthur gave him a strained smile and went to stand next to him putting an awkward hand on his shoulder. Draco remained staring at the door his lip now quivering slightly. Arthur looked to Molly and shrugged. "Well, let's get the others and then off to the Burrow." Ron made a noise of derision and dejectedly clomped out the door with Molly trailing after him, sighing. Arthur followed close behind leading Draco who didn't seem to have the will to fight it as Arthur's arm guided him after the others.

They paused at the threshold and Draco seemed to snap out of it, the blank of his face turning to ultimate despair. Arthur bit his lip and smiled tentatively. He sighed as the boy jerked from the arm on his shoulder, glaring at the man with a peculiar kind of loathing that contained many elements of a slow boiling fury. Arthur chuckled internally. The boy already had one qualification to be a Weasley for sure. This was going to be interesting.

Draco harrumphed at the smile on Arthur's face and stalked off after Molly, leaving Arthur to follow with a sigh, shaking his head. Interesting indeed. He chuckled out loud this time.

"Welcome to the family, Draco Malfoy."

  


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**E/N:** My Arthur's pretty bad. The way I wrote him is how i actually imagine Charlie. Actually all of them are pretty bad...i'll try to improve them next time. if anyone has suggestions i'd be more than grateful for the help. I'm sorry about all the Molly stuff. It was mean...it's just I couldn't help it...the Slytherin in me. It cannot be repressed. I feel bad now. Ha, serves you right Sophie you horrible person! This is weird isn't it? Yeah I thought so too. I wrote it on my one hour break in between classes so i was in school mode and not thinking straight. cause school can do that to you. **Next chapter:** we go to the Burrow, get a better explanation of the incident that led to all this, and learn why Arthur named the price he did, and what is Lucius up to (you don't think he would just let things go that easily do you)? And more Draco and Ron interaction (obviously), though the negative kind. The relationship doesn't come easy with me so it should take a bit. I'm busy, so it will also be bit for the next one if i ever get the time. Thanks for reading!

  



	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Look what I found on my hard-drive. I'd forgotten. I'm just throwing it up without really editing much, so pardon the errors. This part's a bit of a filler, apparently. Let me say thanks to all the reviewers, especially the feedback on Arthur. He was making me feel extremely insecure. Ron's ice cream order is accredited to padmas_girl so a huge thanks to her and everyone over at The SS Prince & Pauper. I realize the Weasleys aren't that poor, and that ice cream at Florence Fortescue's doesn't cost that much and is actually free on Tuesdays (I think?). I took liberties. Thank you.   


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Ron tromped out of The Leaky Cauldron with his hands fisted firmly at his sides and his face burning as hot as the late afternoon sun hanging low in the sky above Diagon Alley. He failed to acknowledge the cheerful 'Hi Ron' that was cast his way as he passed Seamus Finnegan on the street. For once, he didn't notice the new racing brooms in the windows of the Quidditch shop or the pretty birds in the Owl Emporium. The din of the crowds of shoppers fell on deaf ears as he walked along, glaring at the cobblestone under his feet. His face showed plainly his singular focus; only one thing was on his mind. 

"Draco Malfoy," Ron growled to himself. He kicked a loose pebble angrily across the way, wishing he had something, or rather _someone,_ more satisfying to lash out at. "Draco-fucking-Malfoy!" 

The shock had worn off quickly once Ron left The Leaky Cauldron. Now all he could feel was rage, and all he could be was angry. Angry at Malfoy for cursing him, angry at his dad for offering up such a weak punishment, at Lucius Malfoy for agreeing to it, at his mum for not contradicting his father, at Malfoy for being a git, and Malfoy for sneering and smirking like he did, and Malfoy for being such a bloody Malfoy all the damned bleeding time! 

As he came into view of the ice cream parlor, he spotted his brothers and sister sitting at the patio tables in the vestibule. Harry was with them. As Ron approached, their eyes met, and Harry got up from the table and trotted over to his best friend. 

Ron smiled slightly as the dark-haired boy stopped in front of him. Harry was the only good thing that had happened to him all day, and he was glad to finally be with his friend again. Harry would understand him. Harry would know the right things to say to make him feel better. They shared so much, but, at this moment, the most important thing they shared was an extreme hatred for Draco Malfoy. 

"Hey, Ron," said Harry. "Where were you? Your brothers and even Ginny wouldn't tell me. Did something happen?" 

Ron looked uncertain. "Erm...you could say that." 

Harry scrunched his eyebrows as he watched Ron's face flush slightly. "Well, can you tell me, or is it meant to be kept a secret?" 

"No, I'll tell you." Ron took a deep breath. "When we got here this morning, I went looking for you, and you must have been late because I couldn't find you." 

Harry nodded. "Yeah, sorry about that. I got into a fight with my uncle about driving me all the way into town. He wanted to drop me off five miles away from The Leaky Cauldron, so that he wouldn't have to go near 'all that hocus pocus nonsense'. I'm lucky I even got him to drop me off at all. But he realized it would mean that I'd be out of the house sooner, so after yelling at me a bit, he finally agreed." 

"I'm sorry you had to ask your lousy uncle for a ride. Dad's been busy. He keeps hinting to the Twins that he's going to charm a new car soon, but he just hasn't had the time. Ministry troubles and all that rot. We would've sent you a Port Key but after...well...you know." 

Ron gave Harry a look of sympathy as he watched a faint blush twinge the other boy's cheeks, and his eyes glimmered with sadness and slight embarrassment. Harry had endured so much at the end of their fourth year, but he seemed to be handling it okay. Last year he'd understandably withdrawn into his mind, talking little and struggling in his classes, but he was getting a lot better now. Who knew what would happen when school started up again, but, at the moment, Harry was doing well, considering all that had occurred. 

"It's alright. It wasn't _so_ bad." Harry smiled slightly, a reassuring smile. "So what happened after that, then?" he continued, quickly changing the subject. 

Ron shook his head and swallowed hard. "I sort of went wandering about by myself for a bit. I went to Quality Quidditch Supplies and then made the rounds to get my school things...spotted Seamus...went back to the Quidditch shop with him, and then I left to see if maybe you had found my family." 

"And then?" 

"And then...I ran into Malfoy." 

"Malfoy? What did he say? Did you get in a fight?" 

Ron swallowed again and shifted his weight on his feet. "Erm, he said something nasty about my Mum, and I sort of tackled him. He fell back into that little alley near the Apothecary, and I fell with him. He pushed me, and I yelled something, and then he...well...umm...." 

"Ron?" 

"He cursed me...er, Crucio." 

Harry's eyes grew wide behind his glasses. "What?!" 

Ron nodded. "It hurt pretty bad." 

Harry stared at him, his jaw hanging slightly. "Ron...how could he...what..._Crucio?_" 

Ron nodded again. 

"Well are you alright?! Did they catch him? Is he going to Azkaban?" 

"Slow down, Harry. Yes, I'm all right. I wasn't under it long, five seconds or something. And Mum looked me over after they found me. She used to be a nurse when she was younger, you know. There's no damage. I sort of passed out, but Ginny found me. It seems she'd spotted me after I left Seamus and followed me because she thought I might be going to meet you." 

Harry blushed, and Ron's own cheeks coloured slightly in sympathy. "Well, what's going to happen to Malfoy?" 

"He ran after he put the curse on me. Ginny had been hiding behind a rubbish bin when he did it, and after he left she ran to get the others. Lucky for me, Dad was just around the corner. He did Finite Incantatem." 

"You mean the prat just left it on you? You might've died! The Ministry must be all over him by now. It only took minutes for them to send me a letter when Dobby did magic in the Dursleys' kitchen that summer before second year." 

Ron shrugged. "When I came to and told my parents, we went and found Malfoy and his father at the ice cream parlor. I don't think the Ministry knows, though I'm not sure how that is. My dad seemed to understand it though. He got them to go with us to The Leaky Cauldron, to 'discuss' what happened. And my dad, well he sort of...argh, I can't say it. It's too horrible and stupid and unjust and just _stupid._" 

"What is it, Ron?" 

"Malfoy...he...he's got to stay with us for the rest of summer," Ron grumbled. "At The Burrow. That's supposed to be his punishment." 

"What? But it's an Unforgivable! What about Azkaban?" 

Ron shrugged. "I don't know what my dad was thinking. He said he didn't want to send a kid to Azkaban. Even if it's an evil bastard kid who nearly killed me, apparently." He snorted dispassionately. "I don't want to talk about it anymore." 

Harry nodded. "Sorry, Ron. That Malfoy's a right stupid prick." 

Ron shook his head. "'S alright. Though I would brace myself. The git's going to be coming home with us today. So when you see him, don't die of shock or anything, okay? Wouldn't want to give him the satisfaction." Ron gave Harry a lopsided smile. 

Harry sniggered. "Yeah, sure thing, Ron." 

"Okay, let's go get some ice cream. I'm famished." 

They made their way to one of the patio tables. Molly was already sat next to Ginny who was finishing off her strawberry cone, and the Twins and Percy were at the next table chatting and laughing as they ate their ice creams (the Twins were laughing, Percy was glaring at them from behind the Daily Prophet he was holding up to hide his newly acquired bright green hair). 

Ron sat across from his sister, and Harry sat down next to him. "Did you tell them everything, Mum?" Ron asked. 

Mrs. Weasley nodded. "They took it fairly well." 

"Well, it's not them who was cursed," Ron grumbled. "It's not them Malfoy terrorizes everyday at school." 

"I don't terrorize anyone, Weasley. It's not my fault you lack a sense of humour." 

Ron turned around to find Draco standing behind him. "Malfoy," he hissed. 

"Nice to see we're not on formal terms anymore. Because it would be awkward, you know, living in the same house and all," Draco drawled and walked around the table to sit down in the chair across from Harry -- leaving a space between him and Ginny and crinkling his nose at her in something Ron suspected was disgust. 

He turned back to the two boys across the table and smirked. "Well. Potter. Fancy meeting you here. I thought for sure the Dark Lord would have Avada Kedavra'd your sorry arse by now. That, or your head got so big, it exploded. Shame, really. Anyhow, I see even those muggles don't want you anymore. Kicked you out, have they? And as if muggles weren't bad enough, now you're lowering yourself to live with _Weasleys._ But then again, you always did have poor taste in associates." 

Harry and Ron wore identical scowls, giving Malfoy the evil eye from across the table. Ron could veritably feel the tense threads of the hatred held taut in Harry's green gaze directed at their common nemesis. 

Really, he couldn't blame his friend; he felt the same thing, even if his eyes weren't nearly so steady. He could hardly stand to look at Malfoy now. He just wanted the boy to disappear so he could go about the business of having a decent holiday, and maybe he could forget about the curse and the way it felt, the way it hurt, the way every muscle in his body tensed and threatened to freeze and snap if he allowed himself to think about it. It wasn't pleasant. The feeling that he could burst into tears at any moment if that boy continued to exist before him was not nice. And behind the pain and the memory lay the fear. That bit was new. And it was for the fear that he hated Malfoy. 

But, of course, Malfoy didn't bother to care. Even now, he could talk to Ron and say things that he always had, as if nothing had changed. He didn't even seem to hate Ron more than usual. Hell, he was paying Harry more attention than he was Ron. The git should have been brooding over what he'd done, or even proud. That he wasn't -- that he was unemotional and dismissing and completely _normal_, well, that was infuriating. For what he'd endured, Ron knew he deserved more; Malfoy _owed_ him more. If only they'd been alone, then he'd have set Malfoy straight on how things were now.... 

The other side of Ron's peripheral vision caught the look on his mother's face and it gave him pause. For once, Molly seemed at a loss for what to do. She looked like she wished Arthur were there. 

"Well? Where're your manners, Potter? Aren't you even going to say hello?" said Malfoy, drawing back Ron's attention. 

"We're going to go order our ice creams," announced Ron. Making a point not to acknowledge Draco a second longer, he pushed away from the table and looked to Harry. Harry nodded, rising from his seat. And the two friends headed to the counter leaving Draco to scowl after them, obviously put out by the silent treatment. But not for long -- Ron noted with a quick glance over his shoulder -- as Malfoy quickly found other avenues to express his overt idiocy, turning to his right to prattle off to a wide-eyed Ginny while Mrs. Weasley observed warily. 

Ron watched them from behind Harry in the queue. He couldn't understand how this was supposed to be any kind of punishment for Malfoy. On the contrary, the git seemed to be enjoying himself, like any wolf would when thrown into a flock of peacefully grazing sheep. 

He shook his head and watched as his father came up the way to the shop front and seated himself next to his wife. Ron's auburn eyebrows scrunched up in wonder at the man. What was he up to? Decidedly, his father had some kind of brilliant plan in mind to hand Malfoy his comeuppance. Or he had completely lost his mind. Ron sighed dejectedly. Knowing his father, the latter seemed more plausible. The man just wasn't that devious. But Ron knew that his father was no idiot. He must have had some reason, but what? The redhead narrowed his eyes in thought until Harry elbowed him gently to order. 

He turned to the chipper young woman behind the counter and eyed all the bins full of colourful sherbets and ice creams. At least that would cheer him up a bit. Food always cheered him up. "Please give me a sugar cone -- pointed, not flat -- with a scoop of forbidden chocolate and three gummy bears and colored sprinkles, except not the orange sprinkles because I get enough of that as it is, and some fudge. Thank you." The girl raised her eyebrows at him and shrugged, taking his money. She handed him his order -- a scoop of chocolaty abundance, threatening to fall over with the weight of the fudge and sprinkles. "Hey you forgot the gummy bears," Ron said his brow creased adorably. The girl rolled her eyes and placed three little candy bears on top of the cone that he had thrust back at her. 

Harry sniggered. "Come on, Ron," he said and dragged Ron back to the table, leaving the counter girl smiling wryly at their backs. 

They made it back to the table with their cones and sat down. Draco was sitting quietly with his arms crossed, and Ron noted that his three brothers at the other table were glaring at the pale boy in a way that suggested a minor confrontation had occurred. Which really wasn't surprising at all. Ron licked his dripping, fudgy cone as he turned his attention to his little sister who was looking forlornly at the table in front of her. Ron frowned as Ginny turned to address their father on the other side of Molly. 

"Oh please, Daddy, just this once?" she asked sweetly, crinkling her face in a decidedly juvenile, pleading manner. 

Arthur sighed. But Molly was the one who answered. "Ginny, I already told you no. You know how expensive ice cream is here. There's still a tub of the strawberry sherbet I made last weekend in the icebox. You can have some of that when we get home." 

Ginny pouted some more. "It's not the same. Daddy...? Just one more scoop?" 

"I'm sorry, Ginny, listen to what your mother says," he said, looking very sorry, indeed. 

Ginny frowned, and Ron frowned deeper. That was expected. Ice cream _was_ expensive here -- twice as much as it cost for Molly to make it at home from scratch. 

Ron knew about the money Harry had given the Twins. He wasn't stupid. When they had bought him a new pair of dress robes and new lab equipment to research their Weasley Wizard Wheezes products, he knew instantly how they were able to afford it. Ron didn't like it, but he decided not to mention it to Harry, to spare his friend any embarrassment. That money was gone now though. Money didn't last long, especially in their household, where the need was great. 

And things at the Ministry were getting very stagnant as of late. Arthur's department had undergone a crunch after the Ministry's mid-year budget review, resulting in a department-wide pay cut, supposedly to redirect funds to more 'important' offices. For people like the Weasleys, it hit quite hard. Employees could complain, but without any kind of union or collective to speak of, nothing would come of it. The Ministry could do what it wanted as long as it gave a nicely spun reason to the press. And with rumours of the Dark Lord's return and the immanent war rampant, it was not the time to stir up trouble. 

Money was tight. 

Ron could tell by looking at his father's face how worried he really was. Percy's salary helped some, but even with that, it never seemed to be enough. They all understood and so, for their father's sake, tried not to complain too much about things. Ginny knew it too but when they came here to Florence's, she always asked. Even though she knew that most of the time the answer would be no. 

It was only one extra scoop, but there were family rules, a budget. When things were tight, abiding by the budget was that much more critical. One scoop with basic toppings, unless it was a special occasion. It had been the same since as far back as Ron could remember. He didn't mind that Ginny asked; she'd been doing it since she was a little kid. But she should have known better than to ask in front of Malfoy. 

Ron watched as the boy rose haughtily from his seat and made his way to the counter, returning moments later with three scoops of mint chocolate chip slathered in whipped cream fudge and chocolate flavoured sprinkles in a long dish. 

Malfoy sat down and smirked at Ron. "Compliments of the house," he said, sneering. 

Ron looked away and glared at the floor, fisting his hands under the table. It wasn't fair. Here they had to count ever sickle, every knut -- they couldn't even buy Ginny a single extra scoop of ice cream -- and Malfoy with all his money got stuff for free just because of his name and his father's prestigious (and intimidating) reputation. It just wasn't fair. 

Ginny watched Draco spoon some of the cool treat into his mouth. He made a show of licking the spoon clean and scrunched his nose up at the bowl. "Hmm...well, I'm full." He got up and threw the dish into the nearest rubbish bin. 

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley looked at each other, not quite sure how to handle the situation, especially so early into game and in public at that. 

Ron glared at the blond bane of his existence. The bastard had taken one bite. Just one and thrown it away. It was so obvious what Malfoy was doing, but it didn't make the look on Ginny's face as she watched him any less heartbreaking. 

So Ron could understand when his father broke. "Okay, Ginny. Just this one time." 

She blinked and cleared the distress from her face. With a shake of her head, she smiled brightly at her father. 

"No, it's alright, Dad. I don't want it anymore. It's getting chilly out." 

Ron hid a small smile. That was their Ginny; she wouldn't let the Malfoy git show her up. He licked the fudge from his fingertips as he watched a slight perturbation wash over Draco's face. He felt like laughing, reveling in the knowledge that Malfoy would quickly learn that the Weasleys were never that easy. They could handle a Malfoy. Perhaps there was hope for the summer after all. 

"It _is_ getting a bit chilly. Shall we head home?" Molly asked. "Percy, we're leaving," she called to the boys at the other table. 

As the wind picked up they all made their way (some sulkier than others) back to The Leaky Cauldron and flooed home, to The Burrow. 

E/N: It should be apparent now, the reason why I've quit writing and do mainly art these days. Next chapter: At the Burrow, Arthur's motivation, Ron's feelings on the subject, and Draco gets sent to his room for he is a bad boy. Thanks for reading. 


	3. Chapter 3

  
**A/N:** A good thing about writing a little story with a fewer volume of reviews -- I can actually thank people personally. So **thank you to:** **Chibi Tanny**, **Jadea** (more Ron/Harry interaction just for you, and I'm flattered that _you_ think Draco's alright, expert Draco wielder that you are, so very thrilled!), **ash** (will happen in the next two chapters, promise), **Kate** (thank you, glad that some semblance of plot is visible, I was worried), **Thalia** (I wrote you an e-mail, thank you for such an in-depth, thought out review, makes my day, that does), and **Jaime!!!** I luff you and Ron and his hard-on!! Mwah! :) Thanks for the reviews everyone! This chapter is dedicated to **Dee**, for she is my soulmate no matter what _she_ thinks. And luff to **Tas**, who's already read this chapter, you lucky bird, you. :) 

* * *

  
**What Goes Around**   
_by Sophie B._   
  
**Chapter 3**   


"God, how much further? I should have brought a bloody oxygen charm. Are nosebleeds quite rampant in your room, Weasley?" 

"They will be soon, you stupid git," muttered Ron under his breath, his hands fisting at his sides. He looked back over his shoulder at Draco and scowled. "It's only five flights, Malfoy. You'd think you were as old as Dumbledore." 

"In our _manor_ we can just take the portal. The stairs are just for the guests and the servants past the second floor." 

"Well, no wonder you're such a _scrawny_ git. Your muscles have all atrophied." 

Draco snorted. "Potter here is exactly the same size as me." 

"Leave me out of this," Harry said quietly as he moved along next to Ron. 

"That's not Harry's fault!" said Ron, paying the boy in question no mind. "It's because of those stupid muggles he lives with, they don't feed him right!" 

Draco shook his head. "Oh, the muggles. You should be defending them, muggle-lover." 

"There are good sorts and bad sorts in the muggle world just like there are in the wizarding world," Harry said pointedly. 

Draco gave the dark-haired boy an evil look but did not reply, instead settling for scowling all the way up the final two flights. 

By the time they reached the very top most landing, Ron's anger had quelled a bit. Sighing in relief, he turned the knob on the door leading to his room only to pause as he heard a snigger behind him. 

"Huh, 'Ronald's Room'?" said Draco, eyeing up the small sign nailed to the door. "Get your own room, do you, _Ronald._ I'd have thought you'd all have to share one." 

"Shut up, shut up, shut up!" Ron mouthed silently through clenched teeth. He took a deep breath and pushed open the door. 

Malfoy followed the other boys into the room and looked around with critical eyes. 

Ron braced himself for the inevitable string of obnoxious comments that would pour from the boy's mouth. If the pale git could be relied upon for anything it had to be his penchant for making bad situations worse. Well, that and making bad situations in the first place. Ron glared at Malfoy, his dark blue eyes flashing the challenge. 

He was not disappointed, for, after giving the room a once over, Draco turned back to Ron and smirked. "Wow, Weasley, has there been an accident? This place is an absolute _wreck_. My condolences, I do hope no one was hurt." 

"Shut up," said Ron, frowning quietly. He tried to keep the embarrassed blush contained to his ears, but it just didn't seem to be working. He could feel his whole face heating up and could only imagine the horrendous red hue he must have taken on by now. That in itself made him cringe with more embarrassment. Stupid Malfoy for doing this to him. Ron could feel his fingers veritably twitch with the desire to wrap around the prick's pale throat. 

Heedless, Draco continued with growing enthusiasm. "Though, I see your walls have suffered a few fatal blows. It looks as if someone drank twelve pints of pumpkin juice and vomited it up again all over _everything._ What colour _is_ that, anyhow? They could name it after you, Weasley, it's the same colour as your hair. Hideous." 

"Shut up, Malfoy," said Ron. 

"And Chudley, eh? Figures a loser like you would cheer a loser team like The Cannons." 

Naturally, Ron looked scandalized. "They're ninth in the league!" 

"There are only 13 teams in the league, Weasley," said Draco with no more than a dismissive wave of his hand. "I wouldn't be so proud." 

Ron scowled. "At least they've got spirit." 

Draco shook his head and laughed. "Spirit doesn't do anything for you. That's probably why Gryffindors are shit at everything. They've got spirit and nothing else." 

For a moment, Ron was left without a single thing to say as he silently fumed over the blond's words. 

Harry on the other hand wasted no time before jumping in to Ron's aid. "Yeah, that's exactly why we beat Slytherin every year at _everything._ Yeah, we're horrible alright," he said, his voice thin with sarcasm. 

"Shut the fuck up, Potter," replied Draco. His nose crinkled with anger as his lip curled into a sneer. "The only thing you're not shit at is being lucky." 

Ron glared at the blond. Finally, he said simply, "If my mum hears you swearing, you're going to get it." 

"If your mum knows what's good for her fat arse, she'll leave me the fuck alone," Draco shot back. 

Ron began to veritably shake with fury. Harry broke from his spot on the sidelines of the argument to put a hand on his best friend's shoulder and pull him over to his trunk to help unpack. "Don't pay attention. He wants you to get mad," mumbled Harry to Ron as they bent over his trunk, taking out his clothes and books. 

But turning their backs to him did nothing to shut Draco up. "Whispering sweet nothings into your boyfriend's ear, Potter? Don't you think you should save that for when you're alone?" 

"Shut up, Malfoy," said Harry, keeping a firm grip on Ron's shoulder. "Ron, you're going to get in trouble," he leaned in and whispered softly. "You're parents are right downstairs." With a closed grimace, Ron nodded. 

"Oh for Merlin's sake, get a room. A _different_ room," Draco bit out. His tone conveyed a certain degree of irritation at being ignored, which, Ron noted, was more reason to go on doing just that. 

"I say, where am I to sleep?" Draco asked, apparently trying a different avenue of approach. "I call the bed," he added without waiting for an answer. He set his things down on it and hopped onto the mattress, sprawling out casually. 

Ron narrowed his eyes as he watched the blond boy sprawl out casually, bending his arms up to cradle his head on the pillow. He swallowed a growl and gave a disgusted shake of his head. "It's _my_ bed, Malfoy. Don't you think _I_ should get to decide?" 

Draco turned his head to the side and gave Ron a lazy smirk, making the redhead blush slightly. "Frankly? No, I don't," he said in a lazy drawl as if to continue the theme. "I'm the guest here, Weasley, and if you had _any_ manners at all, you would have offered your bed to me straight away." 

"Harry's a guest too," countered Ron. His blush easily slipped into an angrier shade of red. Malfoy was going to keep pushing; it always happened like this. Ron blinked and shook his head slightly. He had to keep control of himself. Malfoy couldn't do anything to him, not in his own house, in _his_ room. "Harry's even more of a guest, since we actually _want_ him here." 

"No, he's not," said Draco. "He's practically your Siamese twin. Or a bad fungal growth...difficult to tell the difference, really." 

Ron scowled but had to admit that it was partly true; he and Harry were practically brothers. Though, Harry didn't look quite happy to be talked about in such a manner. 

Ron sneered at the blond boy on the bed. "Well, I wanted the cot anyway. I sure as hell wasn't going to have you sleep next to Harry so you could terrorize him during the night. We're as good as family and family sticks together." 

Harry nodded in approval. 

Draco didn't seem phased by any of the conversation. "If you're done with your self-righteous spiel, why don't you two skip along to another room for a bit, hmm?" he suggested and quite pleasantly at that. Condescendingly so, Ron noted with an irritated roll of his eyes as Draco continued. "I'd like some peace and quiet. Being around you all day long has given me a headache. I'm allergic to such _tender_ displays, you know." 

"You want to be alone? Then _you_ leave. We're staying right here, in _Ron's_ room," said Harry, unpacking his things next to his cot. 

"That's right," said Ron. "I need to go talk to my parents, but when I get back, if you're still talking such rubbish, you'll be sorry." 

"Oh, I'm scared, Weasley. You've frightened me with your terrible words," Draco said, that same lazy tone prodding at Ron's nerves. 

"They say sarcasm is the lowest form of humour, Malfoy," Harry informed the blond. 

"I'm not trying to be funny. Weasley, here, is laughable enough for all of us as it is. Really, have you ever heard of a host threatening to pummel his guest?" 

"Shut up, Malfoy," said Harry. He groaned and shook his head, "You aren't even a real guest. More like our prisoner, really." He smirked triumphantly as Draco answered the charge with only a glare, evil and full of purpose and promise as it was. 

Ron looked on with unbounded hatred and not only a slight degree of suspicion. "I'm going," he announced, suddenly. He turned to Malfoy and stared him down. "If you so much as touch Harry, I will kill you." 

"Why in God's name would I want to touch Potter? That's more your idea of fun, isn't it, Weasley?" 

"Ah, Ron, no!" said Harry, jumping in front of the redhead and holding the taller boy back as he struggled and clawed the air, reaching for Draco. "Ron go! You wanted to talk to your parents, go...," he said pushing Ron out the door. "You can deal with him later." 

Ron grumbled and turned down the stairs. Harry turned around and glared at the blond boy, now sitting calm and collected on the bed with a slap-worthy smirk on his face. Harry was almost tempted. 

"You have manners. I hardly believe that your parents wouldn't have taught you any considering your social standing. Why don't you use them?" he hissed. 

"Why would I want to waste my manners on a bunch of Weasleys. It's not as if _their_ opinions matter to anybody. I won't behave all prim and proper for people who don't know the first thing about class and refinement. I can't be arsed to do it." 

"And that shows just what a poser you are." 

Malfoy sneered arrogantly, refusing to dignify Harry's rebuke with an answer. 

Harry sat down on his cot and stared across the room at the other boy, his mind whirling. "Ok. So. How did you cast that curse? Without the Ministry picking up on it, I mean." 

Draco grinned. "My father got permission from the Ministry because I take lessons during summer holidays. So, if they monitor me doing magic, they ignore it." 

"Oh," said Harry with a frown on his lips. 

"It's good to be a Malfoy, you know." Draco grinned wider. "Why not just admit it, Potter. It's good to be me. I've got _the_ life. Just admit it. There's nothing wrong with being jealous when you have _such_ a good reason to be." 

"I have no reason to be jealous of a poncy git like you, Malfoy." 

Draco gave a short laugh and turned his back to Harry. 

Harry sighed, realizing he wasn't going anywhere but in circles with the boy. Malfoy was just annoying -- all pale and staring big grey eyes, the ghost of that stupid smirk still on his face. He understood all too well why Ron was driven to murder every time he came within sight of Draco. 

"Why did you do it, Malfoy?" Harry blurted out suddenly. 

Draco turned back around and sat up straight, a look of superiority written across his countenance. "Wouldn't you like to know," he snorted. 

"Yes, I would," said Harry. "I've been under the Cruciatus curse. There's a _reason_ why it's an Unforgivable. A _good_ reason. You're more evil than I'd thought, to be able to cast it and act like you've done nothing wrong. Or more stupid. Why did you do it? You owe it to Ron to tell him at least that much." 

"Yes, owe it to _Ron,_ Potter, not _you._ So why don't you stop going about like everything is your business." 

"It is my business if it's to do with Ron!" 

"Oh yes, I forgot you're his other half, aren't you. He couldn't _live_ without _your_ help, could he. Well, now, don't we have an ego the size of Scotland. Weasley is his own person, you know. He could just as easily wake up tomorrow, realize what an obtrusive, selfish bastard you are and leave you forever just as easily as he could go on being your lap dog." Draco gave the dark-haired boy another one of his superior looks. 

Harry's mouth dropped in disbelief. "I'm selfish? _I'm_ selfish?! I hardly think _you're_ qualified to judge. You cast _Crucio_ on him for God's sake! That's not selfish? And he's not my lap dog. I know Ron's his own person. Don't sit there and try to tell me about my own best friend." 

Draco frowned. "Yes and such a _good_ friend, that you rub your fame in his face and keep him at your heels so he can't be hurt by the big bad world. Isn't that right?" 

Harry shook his head and let out a short huff of a laugh. "I can't believe I'm even speaking to you about this. I'm not going to talk about Ron with you. You can't call me a bad friend when _you're_ the one who goes about making his life _miserable._" 

"Yes, but _I'm_ not his _friend_, am I, Potter." 

Harry scowled. "Just shut up, Malfoy. I know what you're trying to do. You're more transparent than the Bloody Baron. But it's not going to work. So, just don't talk to me." 

Draco shrugged. "Yes, well, your voice rather _was_ getting on my nerves anyway. Whine, whine, whine...how people take you for generous and humble, I'll never know." 

Harry glared but didn't take the bait. Instead, he pulled out _Flying with the Cannons_ and laid back on his cot. And that was that. Draco harrumphed and fell back on the bed once more, and finally, the room fell into a deep silence. 

* * * 

Molly looked to Arthur warily as she busied herself with the task of digging through her knitting bag. She had kept her thoughts to herself in Diagon Alley, but now that they were at home, out of public view, all her worries and grievances poured forth, her flustered face threatening equally to burst into tears or bark angrily at her husband. But she calmed herself with a deep breath and shook her head. 

"Arthur, he might be dangerous. He already hurt Ron, we don't know what he's capable of. He's a Malfoy, remember? And Lucius is a Death Eater." 

"I know, Molly, I know. But what else could I do?" 

"Normally I would be happy to take the boy in for a few weeks and welcome him into my home -- God knows he probably needs someone to care for him after living in that horrible family, you heard the way Lucius yelled at the poor child -- but I can't do it if my own children are put in danger because of him." 

Arthur nodded. 

"And, Arthur," Molly continued with a frown, "It's just an extra mouth to feed. We already have Harry and now...we don't need help around the house that badly. Is it worth all this?" 

"I talked to Dumbledore over the bricks. I told him about all this, and he seems to think it's a good idea. He thinks we'll be okay with Draco here. Molly, the boy could have _killed_ Ron. And he's only fifteen. Someone has to do something, don't they? This risk -- for one less Death Eater, one less life lived as a murderer...I don't think we have any choice but to try. We can't send him to Azkaban, Dumbledore confirmed that much." 

"He deserves Azkaban." 

Both the elder Weasleys looked up to find Ron standing there at the bottom of the staircase. Molly patted the cushion next to her on the couch, and Ron went and sat down next to his mother. She wrapped her arms around him in a comforting hug. "I know this must be hard for you, Ron." 

Arthur nodded. "But think about it, son, he's the same age as you. Your schoolmate. Just a kid." 

"So what?" Ron bit out, relinquishing himself from Molly's embrace. "If Malfoy'd done it to Ginny or Percy I bet you would have had him locked up." 

"Ron, that's not true," said Molly. 

"It's alright, Molly. If he wants to sulk, he can. It's his right after what's happened. I can understand--" 

"You aren't understanding at all!" said Ron. "He's going to be a bloody Death Eater! That curse he cast on me might as well have been Avada Kedavra for all he cares!" Frowning deeply, he mumbled an afterthought, "For all _you_ care." 

"Ron!" cried Molly. 

"Ron, you know that's not true!" 

Ron shook his head. "The bastard's not even sorry." 

"Ron, _language,_" warned Mrs. Weasley. 

Ron scowled and stood abruptly. "And you've given him my room and let him off the hook and then tell me to be nice to him? And you take his side over your own son's? I wish it _had_ been Avada Kedavra!" 

Before either of his parents could say another word, Ron spun around and ran up the stairs. They heard the bathroom door slam shut and the tap let open to full blast. 

"He's probably crying," Molly said, turning to her husband. 

He nodded looking thoughtful. "Let him cry. Let him get it all out. I'll go talk to him again in the evening." 

Molly raised her eyebrows at her husband, her mouth set to a stern line. 

Arthur shrugged, counting the weeks until the end of summer in his head. He sighed deeply. "It seemed like a good idea at the time." 

* * * 

Ron sniffed as he made his way across the lawn. After leaving the bathroom five minutes after his little talk with his parents, he'd sneaked back down, past still arguing parents, and into the back yard. Then he'd walked. A good while. Now finally it was dark and he was probably late for dinner, but at least he'd had a chance to calm down. He didn't want Harry or any of his family to see him so upset. He didn't want _Malfoy_ to see him so upset. 

As he entered the house, he found that, sure enough, the entire family had sat down to dinner at the table, apparently just now, for their plates were still very much empty. No one commented on his late arrival. Ron supposed they felt sorry for him or something ridiculous like that. But then really, he did deserve _some_ pity. Afterall, the only empty seat left was right next to _Malfoy_ of all people. Everyone really was out to get him. At least Harry was on his other side. 

Molly gave Ron a small, relieved smile as he sat down making sure not to look at Malfoy. 

Soon they started, their plates piled with Molly's cooking. Tonight they were having a roast and carrots and some kind of gravy and mash. Ron glanced at Draco who was looking at his full plate with disgust speaking loudly through his crinkled nose and the grimace on his face. 

Ron frowned. "Not up to your standards, Malfoy? You'd better eat it unless you want to starve, you aren't about to get any of your caviars or filet mig-non here," he whispered harshly, turning back to his own plate. 

"Fuck off, pillock. You wouldn't know Filet Mignon if it bloody well jumped up your arse," he muttered quietly out the corner of his mouth, though loud enough for _everyone_ to hear him just fine. 

"Draco! I don't know what's allowed in your home, but here we do not use that kind of language at the table." 

"Oh, sorry, I didn't think it would matter. I had imagined that _your_ kind wouldn't even know what manners were considering there would be no need for them when living like peasants." He drawled, letting his hand wave in a bored manner. 

Ron growled next to him, as he shoved another spoonful of potatoes into his mouth, chewing angrily. 

Molly sighed. "Draco, I think you are done for tonight. Please clear your plate and go to your room." 

"What? But I'm _not_ done." 

"Yes you _are._ If you cannot keep your mouth in check then you will not sit at this table." 

"That's abuse! You can't starve me...what kind of sick freaks are you?!" 

"Oh for Merlin's sake, shut up! You're not going to starve just because you skip one measly dinner!" Ron shouted rising from his chair and leering over the blond. Molly coughed and gave him a look, and he sat down again and began stabbing dejectedly at his meat. 

"Draco, if you're hungry, I will bring some soup up for you in a bit. Now, please go to your room," Mrs. Weasley said sternly. 

Draco stood abruptly -- causing the legs of the chair to screech painfully against the floor -- and glared at her. 

"I don't want to eat your rotten poor people food anyhow! I'd probably get WORMS!" he yelled loudly. He picked up a corn roll from his plate and threw it at Ron's head, before whipping around and quickly storming away and up the staircase. 

As the blond boy disappeared up the steps, the rest of the family all turned their attention back to the table. Arthur coughed uncomfortably, and the Twins tried to hide their sniggers, while Harry helped Ron pick crumbs out of his hair. Percy clicked his tongue in disapproval, and Molly sighed. "Ginny, pass the gravy, please." 

And they resumed their dinner. 

* * *

**E/N:** The Weasley's are being a bit naïve, I don't think they completely understand what they're getting themselves into...well Ron does. If I've made mistakes anywhere, please don't hesitate to let me know so that I can fix them. **Next time** More of that wretched Weasley angst of which I am so fond (I only torture them because I love them) and Ron and Malfoy get into a fight. How unusual. Molly is not amused. And more on Arthur's motivation.   



End file.
